Reach: Rethought
by DavidRanger
Summary: What if Civilians had some weapons of war as well? Would that change things?
1. A New Warrior

William got up from his daily prayer, ready for the day. But, today was different. Today, his prayers were not just for the Lord Jesus to help him do right and face another day. Today he prayed a soldier's prayer. He was going out to battle the Covenant for his home world, Reach.

Jorge was pinned down. He had been separated from Noble Team and was with a squad of marines. They had been holding the Covenant back from an occupied apartment building, waiting for evac to pick up the civilians. They had been successful for the most part; only one civilian was killed during the evac. Now they had to get out of there so they could get picked up themselves at a safe LZ. They were about to move under cover when a huge plasma blast shattered the walls behind them, thus compromising the building's structure. The Covenant had called in a tank. Jorge heard a loud unnatural moan and look up to see the building swaying ever so slightly. His morale dropped to zero. There was no way they were getting out alive. They were stuck between a building about to collapse and a horde of bloodthirsty aliens.

Shooooo-BOOM!

That wasn't a Covenant weapon. Jorge peeked his head up from the cover and saw a smoldering heap that looked like it used to be a Covenant tank. Before he could wonder who had shot it, a group of Covenant went flying as the telltale sound of a grenade was heard. His morale suddenly received a boost. The Covenant's fire was directed to their right, toward an unseen entity. "Marines, on me!" he yelled, bolting to the left and out from the cover of the building. When he was confident they were a safe distance away, he turned around to see something that made him stop in his tracks. The Covenant were dropping like flies. Whoever was doing it, they were good. Very good. He motioned for the squad to take cover. He found an SUV and stood on the other side of its hood. He zoomed his sights in to the fray and saw something he had never seen before. The Spartan, the unmatched UNSC war machine, was awestruck.

He saw a battle suit walking amongst the dead and dying aliens. This would normally be a regular occurrence to him, seeing he was wearing one such suit himself. This one, however, took the cake and ate it too. It was olive green, about 8 feet tall. It had a double pod of some type on each shoulder that looked like they fired rockets. It had a shaft on each forearm; the one on the left was long and narrow, while the other was short and wider. The armor looked sleek, untouched even though plasma rounds were still hitting it. The dark green visor looked similar to an ODST's, only wider. It slightly wrapped around the sides of the helmet.

It raised its left arm and a sharp report barked out as another enemy fell. Two three round bursts took down a Sangheili Elite while one or two rounds finished the smaller ones. Jorge couldn't believe his eyes. This...whatever it was, was taking down Elites with little to no effort while the squad was barely hanging on a second ago, with a Spartan to boot. This thing was a one man army.

Once the last enemy was dead or incapacitated the suit brought its right hand to its helmet. "Any UNSC personnel in the vicinity, please respond," Jorge heard in his comms. The marines looked at him expectantly. The transmission had obviously come from that thing. Jorge responded nervously, "This is UNSC Spartan S-052. We read you."  
"Roger 052, this is Hunter 001. What's your current location?"  
Jorge paused. Should he let this...whatever it was know where they were? "001, please ID. We don't recognize your call sign."  
"Roger 052. William Harding. Rank: Civilian. Occupation: Clerk. Military training: 4 years in cadet academy, 6 months UNSC marines. Call sign while in academy: Howthia 7."  
"Roger 001. Describe your current location."  
"I saw a large group of Covenant pinning down some friendlies in sector delta. Decided to lend a hand. All hostiles eliminated in immediate vicinity. I'm standing outside a large apartment building." At that moment the building groaned again and Jorge saw it visibly lean towards the man in the suit. "001 GET OUTTA THERE! BUILDING IS COMPROMISED! We are .5 clicks south of your lo..."

Jorge's voice was lost in the sound of crumbling concrete as the building came down swiftly. He saw 001 begin to run, but couldn't see if he made it out in time due to the large billowing of smoke that came up. Jorge prayed, "God, if you you're up there, let him live." he was kicking himself inwardly. He should have told him of the building already. The guy DID just rescue his entire squad, and he was too worried about him turning against them. After a few minutes he didn't see any movement. He turned around, slouched against the side if the SUV and put his helmet in his hands. He had just indirectly killed the man that saved their lives. One of the marines broke him from his trance. "Sir? We still need dustoff." He struggled to his feet and nodded solemnly. "Forward Unto Dawn, this is T237 requesting dustoff. We have 15 personnel requiring extraction." "Roger T237. We'll have a pelican on your location in 15," came the response.

40 minutes later they were stepping onto the hangar bay of the UNSC Grafton. His first objective was the bridge. The marines went to sick bay to be evaluated, while he walked briskly to his destination. A medic spoke, "Sir don't you thi..." the voice trailed off as he briskly made his way down the corridors. He didn't have time to go to sick bay. He needed to find Noble Team and find out more about this Harding fellow.

He approached the bridge a few minutes later. The marines guarding it stepped aside, allowing him passage. "Captain Mallarde," spoke the Spartan as he removed his helmet. The captain turned slowly to see who called his name. His face warmed and he responded, "Jorge. It's been awhile." His face soured slightly. "Jorge, where is the rest of Noble Team?"

"Actually, sir, that's what I came to ask of you."

The captain shook his head slowly and turned to the helm. "Find out where Noble Team is." "Aye, Captain," came the response. He turned back to Jorge. "You couldn't get them on Comms?"

Jorge shook his head. "Negative. They must have gone in the underground infrastructure or somewhere else the comms don't work, at least not body-worn. Also Captain…" he let his words hang.

He looked at the Spartan expectantly. Jorge continued, "We were rescued by…" he shook his head as he remembered, "something…some ONE. He…wore body armor I have never seen before. He ID's himself as William Harding. Have you ever heard of him, sir?"

The captain looked like he was in thought before he responded. "Jorge, do you remember a ballistics engineer that loved lobbying for having weapons in the hands of civilians, as well as militias?"

"Yes, Dr. Daniel Harding…" The realization dawned. "You don't mean-"

"He's his son."

Jorge reeled. It had been confirmed that Dr. Harding had nothing to do with the insurrections. However, the suspicion was always there. "But, how would a civilian-"

"By his own creation, Spartan. Dr. Harding constantly fiddled with things in his spare time. I can't say I blame him. The UNSC's strict regimen of keeping weapons away from civilians has always set ill with me, Jorge. You know that. It also did with the doctor. Now, his son has access to his cache and, thankfully, he's using it in our favor. Just as much as the Hardings hate politics, they hate injustice. Now," he turned back to the bridge, "was there anything else you needed, Jorge?"

"Yes sir. What do you know of Howthia 7?"

The Captain remained still. "Will Harding's call sign. If you haven't figured out by now, I was personal friends with the doctor and just as much with his son. He's like a nephew to me." Mallarde paused. "Jerryl, take the bridge. I have some things to attend to."

"Aye, captain!" The commander replied.

"And inform us when you find Noble Team."

"Aye captain!"

"Come Jorge," The captain said as he exited the bridge. "These things are better spoken of in private." Jorge nodded and followed him out. They arrived at the captain's quarters shortly thereafter. "Sir!" Saluted the marine at the entrance. "As you were," Mallarde replied. "Come, Jorge, let's go to my office." When they arrived, Jorge sat in the chair across from the desk. "Now," said Mallarde as he sat down himself. "Where were we? Oh yes, Howthia 7. The younger Harding was the LTCDR for Howthia squadron while in the academy. Under his and Howthia 6's guidance, they almost never lost a flag during training. He refused to accept commission, and barely accepted a 6 month enlistment. He currently has 7 confirmed kills under his belt, all insurrectionists. Those wolves will kill anyone and anything that gets in their way, to include civilians. Of course, both Hardings didn't take that very well. He has more kills that are unconfirmed, total estimate around 200. He loved being able to take out armor and enemy strongholds. The kid is a beast on the battlefield. Just like his father when he would be on a ship monitoring the ballistics. All business, no joking, _will_ act like you don't exist if you dilly dally. He'll leave you to the enemy if you get in his way due to intentional ignorance, insubordination, etc."

Jorge took everything in as it came. "He had a huge suit of armor on, one that only rivaled 117's in height."

"Ah yes," said Mallarde. "The Striker. A very formidable weapon indeed. It's armor can withstand _anything_ that the Covenant can deploy on land."

"Yes, I saw that."

Mallarde leaned in, smiling. "I figured you'd have met him. Otherwise you wouldn't know his cadet call sign. How is he?"

Jorge hung his head. "He…sacrificed himself to save our squad, sir."

Mallarde looked taken aback. "What!? How?" Jorge told him everything. Just then, Mallarde let out a low chuckle. "No, no no. He's not dead, my friend. That armor would have to take a _little_ more than that to compromise." Jorge looked on in shock. What? He…may still be alive? Mallarde continued, "Do you have his radio signal?" Jorge nodded. "Let's call him, shall we?" Jorge pushed some buttons on his left wrist before nodding.

"It's done sir."

"Good. Hunter 001, come in. This is the CPT of the UNSC Grafton. Do you read? This is a private, secure line." Jorge cocked his head at that. Why would he be on a single-comm line?

Silence was heard for a few seconds, followed by the crackle of a radio, "Francis, how ya been?"

Mallarde chuckled. "Very good, my friend. Now, I have a favor to ask of you."


	2. Intervention

William walked along the terrain in his Striker, searching for any sign of Noble Team. Mallarde had asked him to locate them so Jorge could reunite. The last signal the _Grafton_ had was near an underground base close to the city he was just in. He was making his way there now.

~~Minab Mining Colony~~

Holly was leading the defense of the mine alongside her father as the Covenant was trying to break through.

"Get me a launcher over here!" she yelled. One of the miners complied, and she hoisted it to her shoulder. She felt the launcher move a little, followed by a pat on the head, signaling it was loaded and ready. She took aim at a Covenant tank and SHOOOOOM-BOOM! The tank was no more. She waited for the loader to do his work, looking for the feel of the launcher moving. She didn't feel anything after a few seconds so she looked to the side and saw him lying against the palisade with a circular hole in his chest. A plasma round shot next to her head and she ducked. "Sniper!" she yelled out. She heard a click followed by a loud gunshot. "Sniper down!" came a miner's voice.

"I need a loader!"

She saw a female miner, no more than 12 years old head her way. "I'll help, ma'am," she said as she picked up a rocket. When Holly felt the pat, she took aim and fired. Another tank down. Now for the Wr-

BOOOOOMMMM! A large piece of falling rock hit the Wraith, causing it to careen out of control and hit the cavern wall.

"The mine's collapsing!" Came another voice. Holly grunted in frustration as she got up and ran to the surface elevator. She looked back and the young girl was trailing her, carrying two rockets. Any more and she'd be lagging behind. Once all the miners, including the girl, were on the elevator it started up.

~~Reach~~

William heard static over his comms. "Hunter 001, this is Crow 7."

"Go ahead Crow 7."

"Roger. We've got readings of a cloaked ship near the _Grafton_. We've got three Crows in the air, ready to intercept. It looks like a Covenant signal."

"Roger. Thanks Crow 7."

"Crow 7 out."

"UNSC _Grafton_ this is Noble 1, do you copy?"

"CARTER!" shouted Jorge.

"Noble 5, where have you been?!"

"Looking for you!"

"Noble 1, what's your sitrep?" Asked Mallarde.

"We've disabled the shield around the Spire, sir. Ready for the big guns."

"Roger. Coming your way."

Mallarde looked on as he was about to order a MAC be deployed, when the spire exploded right in front of him. "MAC not deployed sir! That was a plasma missile, came from the starboard s-" They then heard – and felt – the telltale signature of a nuclear explosion – no, 3 – one right after another.

"What's going on out there?!" He demanded.

"Not sure sir!" responded the helmsman.

"Vector out! Mission a…bort…." He trailed off as he saw a Covenant Supercarrier decloak directly above them as its energy projector tried to start up but then power down. The helmsman moved the _Grafton_ to the port side, out of direct range of the weapon. Banshees and Phantoms began pouring from the carrier, but before they could reach the frigate they were fired upon from above the carrier, causing them to turn to face their new opponents.

Mallarde saw three ships that resembled longswords but with more rounded bodies appear and start pummeling the fighters with both plasma and ballistic rounds. A missile was deployed from one of the black vessels and Mallarde's eyes went wide as the ship was facing the _Grafton_ when it fired. However, the missile redirected and went right…toward…the…projector…"GET US OUT OF HERE NOW!" He nearly screamed. The helmsman scrambled on the controls and the ship went full speed ahead within a matter of seconds. No sooner had they cleared the belly of the carrier when they heard and felt a nuclear strike once again. The carrier began to drop to the surface as it broke apart.

"Crow 7 this is Crow 1," was heard over the bridge comm.

"Copy, Crow 1."

"Roger. _Grafton_ is secure, supercarrier destroyed. We could use some assistance against these bogeys."

"Roger Crow 1. On your location in 5."

"Crow 1 out."

Mallarde wondered who these new participants were. How did they get access to nuclear warheads? Those were banned years ago, except on stationary bombs. He shook his head over the disbelief of the situation. He looked back, and Jorge was nowhere to be found. He must've departed to the surface to reunite with Noble Team. He sighed and sat down in the Captain's chair as he commanded the gunners to assist the newcomers against the covenant fighters.

William searched the underground facility for Noble Team with no success. He heard a grunt and yell behind him, turning to see a squad of 8 elites and two hunters. He smiled under his helm. Fun fun. The elites charged, all armed with energy swords. He deployed two grenades, taking out 4, then went to fire on the rest with his 7.62mm high velocity armor-piercing imbedded co-ax. He stepped to the side to avoid a Hunter's blast as he fired. Three fell, one getting back up shakily. The fourth swiped at him, and William effortlessly stopped the warrior's hand with his own then broke its neck. The injured elite held up his plasma rifle to fire, but William ignored him, turning his attention to the hunters.

They fired simultaneously and he stepped to the side to avoid one blast only to get knocked back by the other. The overconfident hunters approached the dust cloud created by the blasts and fall, and began chuckling. An olive green armored hand then emerged from the dust, grabbed one hunter by his neck and flung it forward, behind the holder of said hand. The other hunter went berserk and charged, to be met with a one-two-three to the face and gut. It struggled to regain its composure, but its head was taken off by a grenade, causing more dust to come up. The other had gotten to its feet and began firing blindly into the newly created dust cloud, hitting the injured elite, effectively ending it. It stopped firing for a second to see what it had hit. The last thing it heard was "Shoooom-"

He finished searching the facility, but found no trace of Noble. He exited the facility and heard chatter between Noble 1 and the _Grafton_ , as well as Jorge. "Looks like they found them," he said to no one. "Better late than never," he said as he activated his jets to head in their direction.


End file.
